


Kept in the Dark

by Chesid



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chesid/pseuds/Chesid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years ago, Ginny Delphis' mother Corrine fled from Zootopia's sheltered Nocturnal District with her children. Years later, a now-adult Ginny still struggles with life "topside", eventually making her way back to her family's mushroom and grub ranch. There, she discovers why her mother stole away into the night all those years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kept in the Dark

Twenty years ago, Corrine Delphis stole away into the night with her twenty children in tow, leaving behind the only home she had ever known. Zootopia's Nocturnal District was no longer safe for her or her family. She quickly fled the underground city, the family ranch being the only standing monument to the past. Perhaps someday they could return, but it wasn't likely.  
  
  
The large concrete door that shielded the citizens of the Nocturnal District from the light and noise of the day was already open. Moonlight trickled its way down through the dense canopy and other layers of the Rainforest District.  
  
  
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Delphis! It's so good to see you tonight. Taking a trip with the kids?” The fennec fox in charge of the door was heading back to her guard shack as the opossum approached the entry way.  
  
  
“In a sense. Listen, Nancy… Could you do me a favor? ...Hang on a second, let me put the kids down,” With only the slightest of groans, Corrine removed the “Good Parent Pouch Assistant” sling from her chest before walking with the fox, turning her head back every so often as to keep an eye on her children. “much better. Please, Nancy. Do me a favor. If anyone comes looking for me… No matter what they say, no matter what happens… Don't tell anyone where I've gone. Please?”  


  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  


  
The morning sun filtered through the mostly-broken blinds that covered the window of Ginny's Grand Pangolin Arms apartment. She had been living in the apartment for only three months now and was already two months behind on her rent. Lucky for her that the landlady, a sweet little old armadillo by the name of Dharma, was fairly lenient. Still, if she couldn't land a job soon, she was going to have to think about either moving back in with her mother, or, slightly worse, living out on the streets. _And that's just about the last thing a possum should be doing: proving everyone right._ Ginny crawled out of her shabby bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her paws.  


  
Ginny had been a young jill when her mother woke her one night, twenty years before, and told her they were leaving to “go topside”. Back then, Corrine Delphis had made it sound like a fun trip, something they were going to do for a few days, then come home to their cozy little mushroom-and-grub ranch on the outskirts of town. Only, they never went home. Ginny never did find out why her mother whisked her family away from the comfort and safety of the darkness, away from the strangely sweet odor of fertilizer mixing with the wetness of the limestone.  


  
But that was all in the past. Now topside for more than half of her life, Ginny had gotten used to the bright city lights, the noises, and the smells that all came standard-issue with life in Zootopia. Sure, she couldn't see as well in the daytime, and was prone to dropping “dead” out of sheer terror whenever a car honked at her while she crossed the street just a little too slowly. But she had adjusted fairly well, all things considered. 

  
  
As she continued to get herself ready for the day, she noticed the sticky note in the corner of her dresser mirror: _Call Reggie re: sanitation dept. job!_ Riiiiiight. Mom's “helpful” little job hint. Reggie, her minutes-younger sibling, had landed himself a job as a garbage truck driver for the city. It was, most likely, a fairly decent job with good pay. But Ginny didn't _want_ to be “just another” dumpster-diving possum. _Besides,_ she mused to herself, _how the heck did Reggie even get his license? He's been cross-eyed since we were in the pouch._ She pulled the sticky note off the mirror, crumpling it up in one paw, then shot it into the wastebasket by her apartment door. Time to go job-hunting, for the third time this week.  


  
“So let me get this straight, Ms…. Delphis? You don't have any previous experience that didn't involve your family members. I can't even get hold of _those_ family members because they're all asleep, I assume, and don't return my calls. You don't have any notable skills. You put yourself down as available for hours we're not even operating at. Your school records are mediocre, to say the least, and under 'Desired Pay', you wrote down…. 'I'll take anything.' Ms. Delphis, you seem like such a nice girl, but I'm not really convinced that you're Bug Burga material.” 

  
  
The grey wolf manager looked down at Ginny, one dark brown eye still casually glancing at her meager job application. “In fact, when I called your name for this open interview, you initially hissed at me. Now, I see you family's originally from the Nocturnal District, so maybe that's how your kind greet prospective employers down there…. But we do things a bit differently here.”  


  
Ginny started blankly into her paws, her bald tail snaking between her legs and tickling her feet. “I… I haven't lived 'down there' in twenty years, Mr. Pawkins, sir. You just took me by surprise, that's all. I apologized then, and I'm apologizing again. I… I just really need this job, sir,” She could feel the tears welling up, and she tried to keep her composure. “I'm capable of doing this. I'm a quick learner, honest. Can you please reconsider?”  


  
Pawkins subtly rolled his eyes, groaning internally. “Against my better judgment, fine. I'm giving you a chance as a cashier. Don't hiss at the customers, and don't make me regret my decision. You start the day after tomorrow.” He took the one-page application and shoved it into a drawer in his desk. “My assistant manager, William,” he casually gestured to a gazelle that was presently taking a customer's order out in front, “will take your sizes and present you with your uniform shortly. Make sure you keep it clean and presentable. This is Bug Burga, not some filthy little mushroom farm. I expect you to be here at 6am sharp, in full uniform. You're going to cover the morning breakfast shift, and will be off just in time to avoid the major lunch rush at 1pm. You won't be so lucky every day. William! Get this possum her uniform.” _  
_

 

Ginny's walk home that afternoon had a little more bounce to it, as she gleefully hummed a little tune while grasping the bag containing her uniform in one paw. So what if she only got the job because her new boss took pity on her? A job is a job, and this was merely a stepping-stone to a better one. Eventually, maybe she'd even open up her own franchise. Then _she_ would be the boss. And she'd be raking in money, big-time. _That'll show them. Possums aren't just dumpster-divers. I'll be the boss, and everyone will—_ A car horn jolted her from her daydream; she'd momentarily stopped right in the middle of the crosswalk. 

  
  
A porcine fist shook at her from the half-open window of a red truck. “Hey, asshole, get moving!” A second blaring honk from the horn sent a shiver up Ginny's spine, and it took all of her willpower to not collapse in the road as her heart thudded louder in her chest. She quickly pulled her bagged uniform to her chest, scurrying across the street and apologizing profusely to no one in particular.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
With one outstretched paw, Ginny fumbled to turn off her alarm clock. The sun, thankfully, wasn't out just yet, so there was nothing to blind her as she prepared herself for her first “real” job. _Black slacks? Check. Red_ _or_ _black polo shirt? Check! Nametag? Well, William apparently thinks my name is “Jenny,” but check! Stupid ladybug hat?_ Ginny held the red-and-black-spotted hat, a fat ladybug with ridiculous-looking spring-like “feelers” gripping a burger, in her paws. _Check. First thing I'll do when I have MY franchise, is ban these stupid hats._  
  


_  
“_ So, as you can see, the entire menu is on this screen, in different tabs. You got your breakfast stuff right here in this area, then the next tab,” William gently tapped the screen, and another series of menus popped up, “is the lunch and dinner sets. Dark meat, like roaches, flies, and beetles. Light meats, you've got your grubs, caterpillars. We're also starting to offer fish entrees, but that selection is so tiny right now, we have it in the 'Other' tab. Nobody is going to order fish this early, though, so you don't even have to remember that. 

  
  
In that same tab, we also have worm dogs. They're a new item, I don't think we've even set up the marketing materials for them just yet. You could probably suggestive-sell some, just to test the public. Then, there's the drinks… Jenny, are you getting all this?” The gazelle cocked his head, the little springy feelers atop the hat bobbing along with the motion.  


  
“Ginny. My name's Ginny. It's short for Virginia. And yes, I think so. So. The drinks?” Ginny gently rubbed her nose with the back of one paw.  


  
“Right. The drinks. So, Jenny, we've got one of those fancy new soda machines where the customer can pick a soda, then whatever flavoring they want. We have one back here in the kitchen for drive-thru customers, and there's one out here for the customers to use as they please. So when they ask for a specific soda, you just hit 'fountain drink' on the screen. They can get it themselves, they're not fawns.  


  
The shakes and such are over here,” he clicked another tab, “on the dessert menu. You don't need to make anything, of course; you're not qualified. Once they're finished ordering, you click the 'Total' button here, press 'cash' if they're paying with cash, 'credit' if they're using their card and the receipt will print out once they've paid. It's all really simple. Even a wildebeest could do this job. Any questions?”  


 

Ginny shook her head, the little feelers swaying back and forth in tandem. “No, I think I've got it, thanks.” Already she could tell she was going to hate this job, or at least, hate her managers. _Ginny. Sounds nothing like Jenny. How the fuck do you not hear the difference?_  


 

“Yeah. You'll be fine. Anyway, we've still got a half-hour until opening, so look alive. Haha, get it? Look alive… because you're a possum… and you possums like to… Never mind.” Ginny's eyes narrowed as William made the poor joke at her natural reflexes. Possibly sensing her displeasure, he quickly turned his back and went off into the kitchen.  
  


The hours passed by quickly enough, and Ginny certainly did find herself getting adjusted to her new job rather easily. With less than a half-hour until the end of her shift, things had been going well. No messed up orders – at least, none that were her fault – no counterfeit bills, nobody yelling at her and making her want to faint. 

  
  
_It's just like William said. This job's easy. A wildebeest could do it. And I'm totally smarter than a… Oh shit. Shitshitshit. Is that Frankie and Jules? Fuck my life._ Ginny couldn't mistake the two hyenas that walked in behind the lioness and her two cubs; Francine “Frankie” Knoll and her on-again, off-again boyfriend from their high school days, Jules Fierceson were pretty distinguishable. Frankie had a chunk of her right ear missing after getting in a fight with a boar back in their sophomore year, and as for Jules, well. Melanistic hyenas aren't very common, and coupled with his taste for spiked clothing, Jules was an imposing figure - even while being the smaller of the pair. 

  
  
Internally, Ginny was screaming and fighting every urge to collapse. These two had made her life a living hell when they had all been in school together, and why should anything be different now? _Rat-tail. Pouch-pisser. Baby taxi._ She silently rattled off the names they had called her all those years ago, dreading her next customers while still somehow managing to fake a smile for the lioness and her cubs (“Two Cub Club meals, and a Roach Supreme combo with extra sauce, please. To go.”). 

  
  
Ginny's moment of reckoning had arrived. She prayed to whoever would listen that they wouldn't recognize her. _Thank you, William, for not spelling my name right. I will never correct you again if I can just get through this first day._

  
  
“Jules, shut the fuck up, their hats aren't _that_ funny.” Frankie dug an elbow into her boyfriend's side, and he stopped immediately, for the most part. Ginny's ears could still pick up a slight snicker. “So, uh. Yeaaaah. Lemme get an Ultimate Scarab Burga, without the roach sauce. And an order of fried walking sticks. Jules, whatcha want?” Frankie tilted her head toward Jules as he mumbled something to her, and Frankie's eyes widened for a moment as her mouth pulled back into a smirk. “And a Silkworm Sandwich, _baby taxi.”  
_

__  
  
Frankie and Jules erupted into high-pitched and mocking laughter. “What, you think we wouldn't recognize you, Virgin-ia? I'm surprised you're not carrying around your own litter, or, wait, maybe they's under that uniform? You always talked like you were high and mighty, but look where you're working! Bug Burga! What are ya, sixteen still?” Jules was practically collapsing from his own laughter, and barely clinging to Frankie's jacket to stay upright.  
  


The corners of Ginny's mouth began to twitch. She was doing her best to not collapse. _Please, not here. Not right now. I need this job. Why did they have to come in this early? Why couldn't they wait and be stuck in the lunch rush mob?_ “O-oh, h-hi, Frankie. H-hi, Ju-Jules. Is… Is this going to be all for you two tod-today?” She tried to ignore the taunts and insults. Inside, she was breaking down already, the little dam was beginning to crack. Behind the counter, her tail was moving from side to side almost fervently, her agitation beginning to show - if only her coworkers bothered to look.  
  


“Oh, definitely. _For today._ You don't even know how much seeing your sorry ass in here made our day worthwhile. We'll be back, tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. In fact, I think we might have to come in here every day, pouch-pisser. You'll be the highlight of the day.” Frankie pulled a card out from her back pocket. “Charge it, Virgin-ia. And we'll be having it here.” 

  
  
Ginny swiped the card and passed it back to Frankie, not daring to lift her eyes from the touchscreen monitor. She did her best to not cry when they returned to the counter to collect their food, or when Jules pulled one of the stupid-looking feelers on her hat. Their haunting laughter echoed in her mind as she clocked out, and continued while she walked home, and even invaded her dreams that night.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus ends the first of... hopefully just a few chapters. Poor Ginny. While I was writing the parts involving Frankie and Jules, I felt myself just wanting to give her a great big hug and feed her a piece of overly-ripe fruit. I hope you enjoyed reading this and if so, know that you can expect the second chapter sooner rather than later!


End file.
